lusciousxander: (grabby hands by Moscow_Watcher)
[personal profile] lusciousxander
Fic: Teenage Dirtbag
Author: [ profile] lusciousxander
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: PG 13
Setting: Starts during Lover’s Walk, S3. Spike's POV throughout.
Summary: Halfrek gives Spike the curse that will change his entire life.
Note: This fic is written for the Reviving Spander Ficathon.

Super thanks to [ profile] devo79 for being my awesome beta.

Previous Chapters

Part 13:

Made by Tickyboxes

Leonardo Da Vinci will off himself if he sees the rubbish created in this art class. Make a car out of foam boards? Madam Picasso over there used to just ask us to draw a fruit basket or some other rot but now, because some tit complained, we have to produce art. This class used to be a breeze, only one at that. Don’t think I’ll be seeing anymore “A”s from now on.

“Aw, Mrs. Ward.” Buffy raises her foam board, torn in half. “Can I have another one?”

Art teacher flips another page in the couples’ magazine she’s scanning and nods her head dismissively, clearly unbothered by the consumption of foam boards.

“This is hard,” Willow whines, cutting her board askew.

“Least this is your first mistake. Unlike others.” I smirk at Buffy bringing over her fifth board.

“When you have slayer strength, you get to talk,” she retorts, placing her new board a little too hard on the table and it cracks. She groans and hits her head on the board, cracking it even further.

“Some of us aren’t having much trouble at all,” Oz comments, gesturing at Xander who has already finished pasting the car’s body together.

“Wow, Xander, you’re a natural,” Willow praises, sounding a bit envious. Poor thing isn’t used to her inept friend outshining her.

The boy looks up, bewildered by the attention and admiration he’s getting. He looks between his fine work and the wreck we’ve made, and his lips pull back into a smug grin.

“It’s a no-brainer.” He flips his utility knife into the air and misses it. Thing almost slices his foot in half. Sheepishly scratching the back of his neck with his empty hand, he grabs his pencil and starts drawing the car wheels on what’s left of his foam board.

Serves him right. Putting on airs and all. Once a barmpot always a barmpot.

“Hey, Lar, check this out.” One tosser cuts two thin long pieces of his board and sticks them in his mouth like fangs – never got what’s so funny about this joke.

Larry barely smiles at him and returns his attention to his work.

Willow gives me a gentle nudge. “Have you spoken to Larry after the break up?”

Last time I talked with him was on Christmas Eve when he pointed Xander’s house out to me. Don’t fancy doing that again. Heard his granny set him up with a boy. He doesn’t look any chipper about it. Poor git, still finding it difficult to get over yours truly.

His mate is too thick to get how unfunny his little joke is, attacking everybody’s personal space and growling for a giggle. When he pounces at me, my fist connects to his jaw instinctively. The boy recoils back and knocks Xander – who’s gluing one car wheel to the rest of the body – to the floor.

Willow’s “Xander!” breaks out the same time as my “Bollocks!”

“Watch it, Nimrod!” Xander glares down at his damaged masterpiece. Larry’s chum looks more heartbroken by his broken fangs.

I reach out to help Xander up. “You all right?”

He accepts my hand mutely and lets me help him up. I catch Larry’s piercing stare fixated on our clasped hands.

Suddenly I’m shoved back a step. Larry’s friend covers his jaw with one hand and does not look amused. “I’ll kick your ass, low life.”

“Big talk for a silly walrus.” I don’t waste a second and fire a punch, which the twit ducks before his fist slams against my jawline. Sodding hell, I bit my tongue.

Buffy grabs me by the back of my collar and pushes me back before I mess up the wanker’s face. “That’s enough,” she threatens. Willow behind her sounds the alarm, “Mrs. Ward!”

The teacher sighs and glances at her watch, fifteen more minutes before the end of the class. She reluctantly stands up and musters her best intimidating scowl. “If you two don’t settle down, I’m failing you both even if your cars looked as glamorous as a Jaguar.”

The art room does settle into blooming silence, each pupil turning back to their work minus one. “Mrs. Ward, may I be excused?” Xander’s voice floats into the room, low and suspiciously calm.

Mrs. Ward, still on an admonishing roll, directs her smoldering gaze at the boy. “Where are you going?”

He hesitates for a second – this is the first time the teacher cares enough to investigate. “Uh… the little boys’ room?”

She loses the seething eyes with a tired sigh. Gotta hand it to her, must have taken her a hell of an effort to last this long as a teacher who gives cobblers. “Just go.”

The door clicks shut behind Xander when Willow hands me my utility knife. A hasty glance at the boy’s table. His knife isn’t there.


“Xander, get your arse out here.” I delve my sharp stare between the bathroom stalls and stop at the only closed door. The revolting stench of urine hanging in the stale air soils my limited sense of smell. If I was still a vampire, I wouldn’t have survived.

“Will?” Xander’s confused voice drifts from inside followed by the sound of flushing. Can’t fool me. This stinks of cover up.

He walks out of the stall with his eyebrows up to his hairline.

Crossing my arms over my chest - “What were you doing in there?”

A pause. “Number two?”

“That right?”

Xander opens his mouth. Closes it. Shakes his head. “You’re crazy.” He walks past me to the sink with a snicker.

I stand behind him as he washes his hands, my suspicious stare reflected on the mirror. “Where’s the knife?”

He shakes his wet hands dry. “What knife?”

“The utility knife. You snuck it out of the art room.” I hold up his long shirt and pat the back pocket of his trousers.

He recoils and slaps my hand away. “Hey there with the naughty touching!” He looks me in the eyes. “You swing that way. I don’t.”

I roll my eyes. “Look I know what you were doing in there. It’s why you keep wearing long sleeved shirts. You’re hiding your scarred wrists.” I grab his hand and attempt to push his sleeve back.

Xander pulls his hand out of my grip and shoves me back. “Hey, knock it off. What’s gotten into you?”

“Where is the utility knife?” I demand, standing so close to him I can feel my breath hitting his skin.

He pushes me back again. “Back in the art room.”

“Right. And I was born yesterday.”

He shakes his head in disgust. “Take a hike, Will.”

Oh, no, you’re not getting off so easily. I start following him back to the art room. “Listen to reason now, mate. Keep at it and one day it may cut deeper than it should. Then no one will be around to save your pathetic life.”

“You’re not just crazy,” Xander starts breathlessly, quickening his steps, “You’re a lunatic.”

“And you’re thick as mince,” I retort, following him into the art room. He stops at his table, and I take his arm, whispering into his ear. “It ain’t worth it, Harris. Don’t try something you’ll regret.”

He bends down and picks up something from under the table. “You mean this utility knife?”

I stare at the thing, gobsmacked and a little bit embarrassed. Xander doesn’t say anything further, just lets out a humorless chuckle and starts gathering the rest of the pieces to his foam board.

“William?” Larry whispers behind me, making me jump slightly.

Really not feeling like dealing with him right now, I start thinking of an excuse to get out of talking to him.

“Is it Xander?” he asks solemnly.

Taken aback by the question – “What?”

“Why you… why we didn’t work out.” He looks down then up, putting on a brave face and waiting for the blow. “Is it Xander?”

Not likely. Don’t fancy you, Larry, that’s why. However, thinking about it, William did break it off because of his ninny crush on Suicidal over there. Would probably do us both a favor if I just spit out the truth.

“Yes.” He flinches. “That doesn’t mean a free ticket to pummel him to death though.”

He frowns at my serious expression then a smile finds its way to his lips. “I’d never hurt Xander. I owe the guy. He helped me come out.”

Tossing a skeptical glance at the silent boy redoing his car model, I start wondering if he did have more depths than I’ve given him credit.

“You’re the one who should be watching his back.” Larry nods his chin at his nitwit of a friend trying to make new walrus fangs. “Dan said he’ll wipe the floor with you after school is over.”

I scoff. “Let him dream.” As I make my way back to my table, I’m stopped by the blank stare in Xander’s eyes. He’s looking through the board pieces, his friends laughing together next to him yet he’s unaware. It’s brief, though, as the boy snaps out of it and resumes his work.


I check out the cut in my tongue in the mirror. How can a tiny little cut be so irritating?

Van Halen’s ‘Without You’ starts blaring through the stereo. I dance over to my bed and look for the mouth gel between the pile of University of Oxford brochures and college applications.

I got into Oxford.

And other very prestigious colleges here in the US.

I got into Oxford.

I just… never thought I’d be this enthusiastic about it. How much of it is still the same and how much has changed? Do pupils still skate on the Thames at Port Meadow when it freezes over? Do they still hold canoe racing contests?

I apply the mouth gel over the bitten tongue surface, feeling it numbing the pain a bit. That Dan git was waiting for me outside the school premises. His face flashed a ridiculing smile when he noticed Rupert by my side as we walked out of the school’s building. The tosser must think I’m a wuss. I’ll show him tomorrow when I’m not preoccupied with saving bloody Xander.

The boy is going to the Bronze. Alone. He didn’t make a fuss when Buffy and Willow declined on account of a study night for tomorrow’s chemistry test. He got the face of a bear with a sore head when I offered to tag along. Not exactly reassuring.

First you say that you will
Then you say you won't

Can hear the faint ringing of the phone outside my room through the music and overlook Rupert’s bark to turn down the volume. I comb my gelled hair back flawlessly – reflection is heaven’s gift that the living don’t appreciate much. I run my fingers against my smooth forehead, glad that pimple has buggered off. Buffy and her knowledge in skin care came through again.

There must be some kind of way
That we can make it right

Night has already fallen, and the boy is sure up to something. Hope he waits until after I finish off my dinner, no way I’m passing up Rupert’s bubble and squeak.

Hey fool, wise up, better late than never
Yeah you, you know that nothing lasts--

I stop combing my hair when the music dies suddenly. Rupert is standing next to my stereo, staring at me.

I roll my eyes and grunt. “Fine. I’ll turn it down.”

His intent stare doesn’t waver. Never seen a gaze so cold since my first day as the man’s son when William lied to his father and friends about his weekend plans.

“What?” I snap, a terrible feeling seeping inside.

“Why on earth do you want to summon a vengeance demon?”

My stomach lurches hard as my mouth goes dry. He knows. The bloody phone! Why didn’t I answer the phone?!

“A better question; who were you going to curse?” the steel in his calm voice is nothing compared to the obsidian gaze in his eyes.

Tell him, a voice in my head demands. Put an end to this nightmare. He’d want his real son back. He’ll help you retrieve your fangs. Be who you are.

“Who were you going to curse, William?” Rupert’s voice rises sharply.

A lump so thick in my throat clogs my vocal cords. Words can’t pass my lips. Gaze, mind and soul captured by the betrayed stare mirrored in his eyes.

Tell him, the voice persists. What’s holding you back?

The warm smell of roasted dinner floats in the air and lingers amid the college applications and the Oxford brochures on my crumpled bed.

“Is it me?”

That snaps me out of my numb silence. “What?”

His gaze is lowered; jaw looks like it has been set in iron. “It all makes sense. You stopped talking to me after your mother…” He bites on his lips, words lost in his throat.

“Caught your affaire de coeur with another woman?” I decide to help.

He winces and then glowers up at me. “You changed your appearance, started calling me by my first name, disrespecting me every chance you get.”

My jaw line goes rigid. “You think this is all about you, innit?”

“You’re punishing me,” he spits out. “But that’s not enough, you had to summon….”

“Get off your high horse there, Rupes,” I retort sharply, taking a step forward and staring him down, glasses to glasses. “This ain’t about you. I did it…”

Tell him!

“… for Xander,” the lame lie slips weakly.

His incredulous stare can melt steel girders.

A weak shrug. “I wanted to help him get his touch back.”

“On your own?” he exclaims. “William, that’s exceptionally irresponsible…”

“Xander at the Bronze.” Realization suddenly drops down. It’s almost 9 PM.

Rupert removes his glasses and begins rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. “You are not to meet your friends anywhere for two weeks. Especially with a test tomorrow.”

“No, I have to be there or he’ll hurt himself.” I start towards the door, but Rupert blocks my way.

“Xander is capable of going to a club on his own, William.”

“Would you put on your bloody glasses and open your eyes for a minute? Xander hasn’t been well for a while now.”

Rupert does put on his glasses. “He looked fine enough this morning.”

“Not what I meant. I’m talking gun to the head, rope tied to the ceiling fan, knife to the wrist kind of not well.”

He tries not to choke on his laughter. “Xander? That’s preposterous.”

That’s it. I’m going. I try to get past him to the door, but he grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me back. I try to shove him aside, but God, he is much stronger.

“Stop this nonsense, William.” He pushes me back until I fall on my bed. “You are not to leave this house except to school for two weeks.”

“If Xander winds up dead tonight, it’s on your neck.” My grip on one of the brochures tightens with frustration.

He sighs and starts closing the door. I fling the brochure at him but it ends up slamming against the closed door.


Part 14
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September 2016


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